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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26485288">The Aftermath of a Storm</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inexon/pseuds/Inexon'>Inexon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cars (Pixar Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Crying, Humanized Cars (Pixar Movies), Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Korean Jackson Storm, Lightningstorm - Freeform, M/M, McStorm, Ray berates Storm, Ray isnt exactly a good person, Storm speaks some Korean, please read the tags</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:55:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,864</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26485288</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inexon/pseuds/Inexon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Storm’s mind races after he is beaten by Cruz. </p><p>TW// Storm panics and it isn’t pretty. Ray berates him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lightning McQueen &amp; Cruz Ramirez, Lightning McQueen/Jackson Storm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Aftermath of a Storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This wasn’t proofread. Also again read the tags.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Storm!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Storm over here!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How does it feel to be beaten by Cruz Ramirez?” One of the reporters yelled, shoving a microphone in Storms face. He scowled swatting it away with a harsh, “Fuck off”. Pushing past the crowd with the help of his guards as quickly as he could.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The stadium had started to clear, but the buzz around the new rookie hadn’t. Cleaners were set to arrive soon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storm continued pushing and cursing at reporters around him. They were bombarding him with “CRUZ THIS” and “CRUZ THAT”. Fighting for a chance to rub her undeserved victory in his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> He chanced a look out into the pits where Cruz was being praised by fellow racers, Conrad, Aaron, even Danny. Cheering on the rookie for her first win, he could see the joyous smile on her face as she shook hands and gave high fives to what was supposed to be her competition. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No other racers praised Storm for his wins. Calculated and strategically thought out wins that Cruz had to throw a wrench in. Cruz’s happy yelling could be heard as McQueen and his friends came barreling towards her, engulfing her in a group hug. Storms heart tightened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storm scoffed. His face contorted in disgust as he rolled his eyes and snapped at another reporter as guards shoved them away from him. He had told Gale to move to the more reclusive parts of the stadium so he wouldn’t have to deal with the paparazzi. Only this time, it wasn’t for the reasons he’d hoped. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He picked up the pace back to his hauler, guards now actually doing their job and keeping the press away. Storm flipped them off as they were blocked by the entrance to hauler parking and his guards. Still yelling about anything to do with Cruz.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storm stomped his way to his hauler where Ray stood leaned against the metal. Arms crossed as he tapped against his phone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ray lifted his head as Storm approached the hauler, “So that Cru-“Ray began.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span><em>“Shut it</em>.”Strom banged against the truck, scowling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, someone’s mad.” Ray lifted off the his leaning place. Putting his phone is his pocket.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think I have every right to be, Ray.” Storm sighed, rubbing his forehead in anger. “She- She-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She won. Yeah, I know Storm and she’ll win again if you keep up with the attitude.” Ray snapped back. Causing Storm to look at him. “You<em> LET</em> her win. You got mad, fell for her tricks and now you’re here. Whining at the foot of your hauler, to your agent of all people. God, we picked you because we thought you were capable enough to handle the racing world. She’s not even a fucking racer Storm and you ended up loosing to her anyway.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray began to pace. “And look at her, she’s not even supposed to be here, she won, and I can tell you she probably fought her way up to <em>our</em> level. Do you see her crying after a loss huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ray held his Storm’s gaze and sighed. Ray’s phone rang as he was about to go talk further. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll leave later once I’m done talking to your trainer.” He picked up his phone and walked off. Shoving Storm's phone at him. “Nat? Yeah, about Storm-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storm stood like a deer in headlights, clutching his phone to his chest. How could he not see that Cruz was trying to get to him? No. He knew. But he was too caught up to truly realize and process it. Mocked on his own playing field. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storms mind raced. He leaned his head against the side of his hauler. Scrambling to text Gale to open it up. His vision started to blur.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>‘<em>Was she conspiring against me this whole time? What about the other racers? Danny? Aaron? No. I’m not even friends with them. I barely even know them. But they all know </em></span>
  <em>
    <span>Cruz. ‘</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘What has she told them? They’re all against me now. No problem, I didn’t need them in the first place. My competitors are numbers and I come in 1st. They shouldn’t matter to me, nor should I to them. I’m here to win not make buddy-buddy with some second class assholes.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storms mind continued to scream at him. He felt sick, his mouth started to feel dry. His head began to spin as he felt an onslaught of self-doubt. He felt weak, small and trapped in his own skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If anyone was around to see his face they’d feel the same.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gray eyes glazed with a token terror. Blown wide as Storm’s body slumped in tiredness. He couldn’t tell if he was trying to catch his breath or he had gotten the wind knocked out of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He felt trapped, lost. Funny considering his whole livelihood revoked around forever turning left.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sound of his trailer opening filled his ears. A salvation to him and his scrambled head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By now the other racers had begun to leave. He could spot other haulers pulling out and exciting the stadium. He felt a little relieved to know there was less of a chance someone would spot him in a state like this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storm slid his tired body against the hauler as the door fully opened. Gale had  already taken his car in so he wouldn’t have to worry about that either. He dragged himself to the ramp, taking a wobbly step as he tried to calm his mind and breathe. He gripped the side of the entrance. Hauling himself up more so he could rest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storm slid his tired body down the interior of the truck. Slamming the back of his head against the wall in the process. His mind had started to fizzle out, and white noise filled his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The lights had started to turn off around him. Only a few haulers, Danny, Aaron and the cucks who praised Cruz were around. The faint blue lights around him calmed him down even more. Storm began to drift off at the foot of the ramp. Breath shaky as his eyes started to close-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He heard faint footsteps making their way to him. Storm jolted awake. Banging his head against the wall, yelping in pain. He scrambled to his feet and proceeded to kick the button to close his trailer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“개자식!” he cursed to himself as he tried his best to get the trailer door to close.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>McQueen had been watching Cruz and his friends celebrate when he overheard the faint yelling and cursing. The deep voice, being instantly recognizable even with the apparent stress that McQueen found off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lightning! Where, are ya going?” Cruz ran up beside him. Resting a hand on his arm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, just checking around if there’s any other racers left.” He smiled down at her. “I thought it’d be nice to get to know more of the Next-Gens.” McQueen shrugged.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cruz grinned brightly back at him. “Well, tell me if you find anyone as nice as those dudes,” Cruz gestured her hand towards Danny and the couple other racers that congratulated her for the win. “They’re.. You know, they’re pretty alright.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>McQueen felt a tug at his heart. Happy to see that Cruz could have companions on the track. Even if McQueen himself didn’t have the greatest impression of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll cya around, old man!!” Cruz let go of McQueen’s arm, pointing finger gun at him as she turned to run back towards the crowd of her new found friends and family. Loudly talking amongst themselves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>McQueen turned back towards the sounds of distress.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Though none of what they were doing was his business, curiosity took the best of him. McQueen followed the noise into one of the more reclusive areas of the hauler parking. By now the stadium lights were turned off. Leaving only the lights from McQueen and a few other racers haulers to illuminate the area.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could spot the familiar blue lights from around the corner. The IGNTR logo on the ramp to the hauler. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>McQueen quietly shifted to get a better view of what was going on. He didn’t expect to be met with a panicked Storm. Still kicking away at the ‘close’ button in his trailer. Stifled cursing and then a crash as Storm threw one of the helmets from inside his trailer on the floor with a loud bang. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“씨발!!” Storm yelled, causing McQueen to jolt back a bit from the outburst.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By then Storm just wanted to sink into the floor. He didn’t care if someone saw him and recorded him. He couldn’t think straight, the white noise beginning to plague him again. He could see it now: “IGNTR’s ROOKIE SENSATION THROWS A TANTRUM IN HIS TRAILER AFTER HIS EMBARRASSING LOSS AGAINST CRUZ RAMIREZ”.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was on the verge of tears when a creaking came from beside him. Storm whipped around to come face to face with his idol. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>McQueen stood in front of him, mused dirty blonde hair falling in front of his face. Red ponytail beginning to slip. The freckles on his face looked almost purple under the blue light. He looked worried, and concerned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Misplaced concern in Storms eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storm quickly wiped away the beginnings of tears from his eyes. Angrily mushing at his face and accidentally scratching his lightning bolt earring against his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t see past the tears to notice McQueen beginning to wrap his arms around him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>McQueen has seen it all before, he’s been here. Cocky, abrasive, putting all his eggs into one basket. When his life was always winning. Before he got to Radiator Springs he’d only have Mack to comfort him after every loss. He used to talk Mack’s ears off with ramblings about how shit he was at racing. How HE should’ve known what would happen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storm, though. Storm had no one as far as he could tell at least. Asking Storm about his family details and his friends wasn’t on his list of things to do. Not yet at least.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storm stilled surrounded by McQueens arms. His quick breathing and fast heart rate pounding, ringing through his ears. He didn’t hug back from the shock he was in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t process what was happening when the first tears poured down his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storm choked out a horrible sound and began to cry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>McQueen’s face contorted in grief as what started as a meek vulnerable noise quickly turned into a shrill wail.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>McQueen held onto the Next-Gen racer as the sounds of Storm choking on air filled his ears. McQueen whispering words of comfort as Storm continued to bawl.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two stood there in Storms hauler for a while. Not long enough for McQueens friends to grow concerned and not long enough for Ray to return from wherever he had gone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In that time Storm hadn’t bothered to hug back. Storm rested his head in the crook of McQueen’s shoulder. Slumping his body against the older racer, arms weakly dangling from tiredness. He continued quietly sobbing into McQueens shoulder. Mumbling about how stupid he was for loosing, how he tried his best, how he didn’t belong. About Ray, about his doubts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> McQueen held him through it all. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
</p>
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